


stare at my phone until it dies

by sophiecognito



Series: FFxiv Write 2020 [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark Knight Questline (Final Fantasy XIV), Dreams, FFxivWrite, FFxivewrite2020, Gen, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26522254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiecognito/pseuds/sophiecognito
Summary: Galatea has been having weird dreams, lately. She can't sleep, and risks telling a friend.
Series: FFxiv Write 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917517
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	stare at my phone until it dies

**Author's Note:**

> for the FFxiv Write Event!
> 
> Day 17: Fade

It's over hot chocolate when Galatea confesses to Haurchefant.

“I haven't been sleeping well lately,” she admits, tapping the rim of her cup. The drink’s steam rises between them, but he takes a sip of his. Her apartment’s a tidy thing, especially with both her roommates out for the day. For once, there’s space and peace for her to breathe. Winter’s sun will soon dip into the skyline, but for now it filters into her kitchen.

“What’s troubling you, friend?” he asks, ever dutiful, as sweet as ever. The tacked on friend, started as a joke between them, he says with a sincerity which settles in the pit of her stomach. Not quite butterflies. 

“I’m not sure,” she says with a shuffle of her feet. Haurchefant sends a flat look.

“Gala.”

“I don’t know, seriously!” The insistence gets a laugh out of him. She presses her lips, vacillating on telling her theory. The cup rests over her mouth. “Hmph, maybe I do, but dunno.”

“You don’t start if you don’t intend to finish,” he says and crosses his arms, careful of his hot cocoa. Shame, as it hides the horrible knitted unicorns dancing across his sweater. She drinks, finds it needs more marshmallows and plops them inside. They swim at the swirl of her spoon, but she leaves the mug on the counter. 

“Okay,” she concedes. “It may sound silly, though.”

“I’m all ears, then.” He winks, but the seriousness underneath reassures her. Galatea inhales. 

“I’ve been having strange dreams for a week straight,” she says. She focuses on her drink. It’s Haurchefant, yes, but the trust doesn’t take away how strange it all feels, much more to confide in another. “They _feel_ long, as in hours long and very, very vivid.” The cold was biting, the corpse’s smell cloying and Fray’s grip had been--

“But--” she shakes her head. “--I wake up and it’s been half an hour and I can’t go back to sleep at all.” 

“What are the dreams about?” Haurchefant tilts his head, snow-white hair falling over his eyes. Oh this is the part she dreads. 

“D-Don’t laugh okay, but it’s about knights and swords and magic and all that.” The drink’s back in her hand after gesturing vaguely. It tastes much too sweet now, but she swallows a mouthful. 

“Have you been taking books from my apartment, again?” 

“If it’s because of that, there should’ve been more bodice ripping, not so much dismembering temple knights in a cathedral.” Oh, how they screamed when she came for them.

His smile drops. “Ah.”

“Yeah...” Closing her eyes, she sighs. “They’re very gruesome, I don’t know why it’s messing my sleep schedule so much. I’ve tried sleeping pills, but nothing. They mess me up for work, instead.” The very job she has called in sick today, guilt gnawing at her when her boss asked over and over if she could make it even a half day? Still it lingers, eating the butterflies nesting in her stomach. What a ravenous beast. 

“That _is_ dire,” Haurchefant murmurs. He lingers on the circles under her eyes, darker than his for the first time in years. A workaholic seizes up another and loses, his frown tugging downward. “Emmanellain’s doctor can prescribe you something stronger, if you prefer.” 

“That’s sweet of you, Haurche, but--” Galatea finishes her hot cocoa in one last gulp, the dredges leaving a dark trail behind, like the bodies in her dream, like the inky darkness swimming in her veins and enveloping her, earning their ire and Fray’s urging. “--those will really knock me out, if they work for the dreams or not.” 

“You’re sure of this?” he asks. Hand on her forehead, she chuckles mirthlessly.

“My plate’s full as is, I can’t go sleeping on the job and everything else,” she says. That will be letting everyone down. She can’t have that; they count on her. It’s the rational Galatea sticks with, and not the suspicion that the solution does not lie in conventional methods. Defeat colors his sigh. 

“Then, tell me how can I help?” Uncrossing his arms, he places a hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing. In her sleep deprivation, the simple question prickles her eyes with unshed tears. Galatea wants to tell him more about her dreams, but finds the words lacking, dying in her throat. Is it how personal they are? Haurchefant doesn’t deserve more problems; she already stole him away this afternoon to talk. 

She forces a smile and covers his hand with hers. A finger nudges a scar on the back of his hand. “I call upon you, oh great knight,” she says, “for your expertise on napping.” 

“Ah, yes, you have come to the right person!” The worry remains in his eyes as he mirrors her smile. “Lead the way, noble warrior.”

Galatea does, pointedly avoiding the stack of crafts due tomorrow by the foot of her bed, and the myriad emails she’s been receiving from the Scions and--and--

Haurchefant closes the shades before dumping himself into her bed. He patted the comforter in invitation. 

“It’s a perfect day to sleep the afternoon away, don’t you agree?” he says, already hogging the pillows. 

“Tell it to my brain.” She jumps over him to land on her creaky bed. Nostalgia for better days, for the days where sleep deprivation was a badge of honor or of fun, flit in her mind when she rests her head beside his. They survived college like this. 

“Go to sleep, brain.” He presses his hand against her head. She hopes she survives this bout the same way, but she knows it's wishful thinking.

She wishes anyway. 

With Haurchefant’s presence a comfort, Galatea slips into unconsciousness. 

The world fades and she’s back in the scaffolding in the Brume. Staring at her as always is the corpse propped against the wall. This time, the crystal’s burning against Galatea’s palm. Fray’s sword ( _yours, it’s yours, it’s yours, bestowed as it is_ ) bars her way. 

“Not so fast. We need to talk about what’s happening to you--what’s growing within you, before you get carried away,” Fray says and the words are familiar. The words haunt her while awake, but in the reality of dreams they are hazy as her breathing, shallow puffs of air lost in the frigid air. 

“You have been avoiding me,” Fray continues. “But you hear the voice and bear the crystal.” 

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Galatea says. “How can I when I see you every night?”

Fray’s eyes glow like will-o-wisps. Suddenly the cold isn’t so bad. Stepping forward, Fray assesses her, a head shorter than her. How short is the black clad person? 

“You say talk, then let’s talk,” Galatea barrels on. There’s courage when you’re lucid dreaming, a measure of control despite the wild nature of dreams. It’s all an illusion, but it urges her forward. “No making me kill Temple Knights.” Not without telling her _why_ first.

Fray’s veil flutters in the wind, but there’s nothing underneath. Fray’s only eyes and they peer deep into her.

“There’s a darkness within us all--nothing dangerous mind. In fact, it’s quite healthy,” Fray starts. “But the crystal changes you--gives you the power to channel it.” The soul crystal cuts into flesh, hot and cold at the same time. 

“And?” 

“Will you accept its calling this time?”

**Author's Note:**

> Um, yeah. This is kinda finding my footing in this idea I've been toying with in relation to the drk questline in relation to my wol on how it's not "canon-canon" but wanted to try my hand at it and its um--experimental let's say. Hopefully after the event I'll have ime to tinker with it to be a full story. 
> 
> Title's from the Stressed by Upsahl


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